


we get along

by yeswayappianway



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, Nightwing (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Bonding, Card Games, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:00:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22044481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeswayappianway/pseuds/yeswayappianway
Summary: Tim had gotten a faceful of Crane’s latest toxin not even an hour into patrol, and while they’d given him the antidote, Dick knew from experience that it still took time to wear off. Bruce had headed back out on patrol and Dick had offered to let Tim stay in Bludhaven.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67





	we get along

**Author's Note:**

> this is vaguely set during the 90s run of nightwing (so dick lives in bludhaven altho i'm imagining he and bruce are getting along slightly less atrociously here, tim is robin, and most of the rest of the batfam isn't around) because that's what i read that made me start writing this while i was stuck on a plane
> 
> this was unbeta-ed so if you notice any typos, feel free to let me know in the comments!
> 
> title from I Love You, by Said the Whale, which is like... genuinely the most batfam song i've ever heard in my life? was it written about them? i'm not even joking pls someone find this out

“Do you want anything else? I could run out to the corner store—” Tim cut him off with a shake of his head.

“Really, I’m fine, Dick, I promise.”

 _Fine_. When was the last time any of them were actually “fine”, especially when they said it? Dick tried to hide the skepticism on his face. It probably didn’t work, but Tim didn’t say anything about it, so that would have to do.

“You don’t drink tea, right?” Dick asked absently, rifling through the cabinet.

“Uh, I don’t drink _your_ tea,” Tim said, in a way Dick had only heard from people currently sharing a kitchen with Alfred. He had a point though, Dick thought ruefully, pulling out a slightly crumpled box of tea bags.

As he grabbed the kettle, Dick asked, “Want anything else hot to drink?” He opened the lid, and winced a little. When was the last time he washed this? The coffee maker saw plenty of use, but he didn’t have time to sit down and make tea as often as he’d like. It was less about the taste for Dick—hence the very much not Alfred approved cheap box of what was nominally Earl Grey—and more about the comfort of the ritual of making and sitting with it. Well, he’d have plenty of time tonight.

Tim snorted. “What, hot water? No, I told you, I’m fine.”

Again, it was a fair point. Dick was still worried. Tim had gotten a faceful of Crane’s latest toxin not even an hour into patrol, and while they’d given him the antidote, Dick knew from experience that it still took time to wear off. Bruce had headed back out on patrol and Dick had offered to let Tim stay in Bludhaven. Get him somewhere more manageable than the manor—Dick remembered having nightmares about drafty hallways and shadowed corners on regular nights while living there as a kid—and get to be the cool older brother to Bruce’s faultlessly practical mentor. A win all around as far as Dick was concerned. “Suit yourself,” Dick shrugged and rinsed the kettle, and them decided now was as good a time as any to actually wash it.

“Oh, do you need help with anything?” Tim asked suddenly. It sounded like he was getting up from the couch.

Dick answered absently. “Nope, I’m all good.”

“Are you sure?” Tim asked again. Dick turned to look at him. Tim had come into the kitchen and he was hovering anxiously a few feet behind Dick.

Crossing his arms, Dick said, “You’re supposed to be resting, remember? That’s the whole reason you’re here.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I’m _fine_.”

“Then why are you shaking?” Dick asked. Tim looked down at his hands and seemed betrayed to see the shuddering Dick had noticed. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and stood up straighter.

“It’s just residual,” Tim argued. “Besides, giving me something else to focus on would only help me get through any lasting effects of the toxin.”

God, Tim was good, and exactly the kind of determined that was going to get them all killed someday. It wasn’t like Dick was a stranger to overworking himself instead of dealing with problems. Arguably, that was his whole reason for being in Bludhaven. Still. Tim was so young. He shouldn’t be doing it yet.

(Dick didn’t think about how young he had been. Some things just couldn’t be approached with anything remotely resembling objectivity. If it made him a hypocrite, so be it.)

“How about you figure out a way we can pass some time after I make this tea? You know me, if I don’t have something to do constantly, I’ll drive you up a wall,” Dick lied. Usually Tim was pretty good on seeing through his bullshit, but Tim would have heard stories from Alfred about how hyperactive Dick had been as a kid, and he seemed to be buying this one. Honestly, Dick would love nothing more than to relax for the evening, but Tim did need something to keep his mind occupied, and he was more likely to go along with it if he thought it was for Dick’s benefit.

Tim opened his mouth, and Dick had a feeling he knew where this was going. “No work,” he said. Tim closed his mouth. It was like Bruce all over again. “Go poke around in the living room. There’s, uh…” The issue was that Dick didn’t take his own advice, so there wasn’t exactly a lot to do in the way of fun. “Some cards, maybe?” Dick offered weakly. He couldn’t tell what Tim thought of that, but he did head back into the living room, so hopefully Dick would have a few minutes to come up with something. Dick returned to his kettle.

It didn’t take long to get the kettle rinsed and on the stove, so Dick followed Tim into the living room after a little bit. He could come back when the water was hot. Tim was sitting on the ground in front of Dick’s one bookshelf, frowning at it. “Dick, do you ever have anyone over here?”

“Ouch,” he exclaimed, clutching a hand over his chest. “Harsh.”

“I’m just saying,” Tim protested. “You barely have anything in this place that isn’t work-related.”

Tim wasn’t wrong. Dick didn’t remember the last time he’d even seen any of the Titans outside of emergencies, and he’d intentionally kept them away from Bludhaven. He knew they’d say that he didn’t need to be taking this on, that he could take some time to rest, and maybe they would be right, but it was too late. Dick had never been good at letting go, and he’d already tangled himself too inextricably here.

Before Dick had a chance to try and defend himself, Tim wrinkled his nose and said, “Please don’t give me any details, but don’t you sometimes bring… _dates_ back here?” Dick smiled a little at the way he grimaced at the word ‘dates’. It was endearing when Tim occasionally remembered that he was a teenage boy who was grossed out by things like his older brother’s love life.

“You’re in luck, Tim, no details to give,” Dick said cheerfully. How long _had_ it been since he’d been on a date, or even talked to someone he was interested in? Besides Barbara, of course, but she was her own category. He shrugged. “Besides, it’s a little too dangerous to bring anyone back here. Got too much work lying around.” Not literally lying around, but Dick didn’t want to think about how obvious some of his equipment and case files were if soneone were to take even a quick look around.

Tim was giving him a look, but he didn’t press it. “I’m gonna buy you a playstation,” Tim announced. “For everyone else’s sake.”

Amused, Dick asked, “Isn’t that supposed to be my job as your older brother?” He couldn’t claim to have a lot of experience with what brothers were and weren’t supposed to do—as Jason certainly would have attested, he thought grimly—but this one seemed pretty obvious.

“It’s not _for_ you,” Tim sounded like this was a personal offense. “This is for the greater good of everyone who visits you.” Dick smiled again. Somehow Tim managed to make oblivious displays of wealth seem endearing in a way Bruce never had. Then again, maybe that was just because Tim was only fifteen. “For now, though, I know you have a deck of cards somewhere. We can play cards.”

“You’re in luck,” Dick said grandly. “I have _two_ decks of cards, in fact.” Because he’d needed them to figure out what Riddler had been planning last time he’d decided to hop over to Bludhaven for a bit, but still. They were intact and usable. Dick fished one of the packs out from the pile of mail on the shelf at elbow height and tossed it to Tim, who caught it without looking. Dick felt a flutter of pride. Tim wouldn’t have been able to do that a year ago, and maybe it was mostly due to Bruce and to Tim himself, but he’d had a part in that too. It felt good to see positive results of his actions every once in a while.

“Your tea should be almost ready, right?” Tim asked. “We can play at the table in the kitchen.” He didn’t wait for Dick to answer, just went into the kitchen and plopped down in one of the chairs. Sure enough, the kettle started to whistle. Dick hurried into the kitchen and grabbed it before it got any louder. His neighbors already had plenty of reasons to complain about him.

Tim started shuffling the cards as Dick poured his water and tore open a packet, forcing the tea bag into the water with a spoon. He sat down across from Tim. “So, what are we playing?”

“How about Go Fish?” Tim asked, still shuffling.

Dick shrugged. “Why not?”

A few minutes later, he knew why not. “How do you keep doing that?” Dick whined, as Tim smugly held his hand out for the pair of threes in Dick’s hand. “You can’t be good at Go Fish, it’s all luck!”

Tim laid down the threes in front of him. “I guess I’m just lucky,” he said, clearly trying to keep a straight face. “Have any queens?” he asked, and then burst into laughter when Dick just stared at him.

“I hate you,” Dick informed him, handing over the queen of diamonds. “Seriously, how do you _do_ that?”

Grinning, Tim shrugged. “Maybe you’re just easy to read,” he suggested innocently.

Dick narrowed his eyes. “Easy to read, huh?” he asked, and then turned around and realized something. “You wouldn’t have been looking at the reflection of my cards in that mirror back there, would you?”

Tim didn’t even look ashamed. “Not every turn. Sometimes your arm was covering them.”

“Next time, I get to choose where we sit,” Dick said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe it, my own brother, the card shark. What would Alfred say?”

“Alfred’s the one who taught me how to count cards,” Tim said.

“You know,” Dick mused. “That actually explains a lot.” Tim cracked up again, and Dick smiled. It was good to see Tim like this. He was so serious usually, always trying to make himself useful or unobtrusive, and it was nice to know he could still joke around and be a bit of a brat. “But we’re _definitely_ finding something else to do after this, I’m not going to sit through another game of this humiliation.”

“Whatever you say, Dick,” Tim said, giving what Dick recognized as his best Robin smile.

**Author's Note:**

> this started as me just wanting tim to have a chill evening for once, and ended up with a lot more feelings about dick than i originally intended, but *shrug emoji* here we are. also, yes, i know i didn't really end it. i have no defense for that but i'm also not changing it.


End file.
